


This One Left Them All Behind

by fairy_tale_echo



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Community: tsn_kinkmeme, Fix-It, M/M, Reconciliation, epic kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-15
Updated: 2011-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-22 16:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairy_tale_echo/pseuds/fairy_tale_echo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There have been five great kisses since 1642 B.C., when Saul and Delilah Korn's inadvertent discovery swept across Western civilization. ...And the precise weighting of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy, because although everyone agrees with the formula of affection times purity times intensity times duration, no one has ever been completely satisfied with how much weight each element should receive. But, on any system, there are five that everyone agrees deserves full marks.</p><p>Well, this one left them all behind."</p><p>-William Goldman, <i>The Princess Bride</i></p><p>(or: <i>the one that's a romantic comedy</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	This One Left Them All Behind

Out there - out there in the world - [there's a baby named Facebook](http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/02/21/baby-named-facebook-egypt_n_825934.html).

Eduardo tries to reconcile that with sitting on Mark's bed in Kirkland and watching the site go live. He tries to reconcile that with $1,000 and crashing Harvard's servers because they were looking at pictures of girls. He can't. His brain can't make it work. It's as impossible of conceiving of a billion dollars. Do you have any idea what a billion looks like written out? _1,000,000,000_.

The quarterly shareholder's meeting is coming up in three days, the first one of the year. Eduardo's spent the last week debating if he's going to attend or not. Back at the beginning, he made a point of always missing them. Eventually, though, the businessman in him couldn't ignore it was actually important for him to attend. Facebook is a significant part of his business portfolio, after all, and he can't ignore it out of spite. Now he drops in on them on occasion, he tries to not make his attendance too regular. Because ... just because. Usually they go off without a hitch. Eduardo takes notes and tries not to talk to anyone. The last one had been different, though. _Very_ different.

~~

During one of the breaks, Eduardo was making polite small-talk with Dustin about how Asana was doing when Mark came right over and just joined the conversation.

Which - fine. It's not like he and Mark haven't spoken since the lawsuit. They've had plenty of casual conversation. Maybe even a few hours worth of it over the years. This, though, felt different. Maybe it was the way Mark was standing too close to him. Maybe it was the way Dustin was almost smirking. Maybe it was the way Mark just nodded along and didn't try to change the subject to a programming issue he really needed Dustin to look at, _just for a few seconds, man, when this is all over._ Something about this time was different than all the casual conversation he and Mark had engaged in during the past. Which was a good indicator to Eduardo he should get the hell out of there.

But that didn't work. Mark followed him out of the board room. Eduardo was practically racing to the bathrooms at the end of the hall when it occurred to him that wasn't going to work either. Mark'd follow him there too.

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face Mark instead.

~~

"Did you need something?"

Mark looked taken aback for a few seconds. "Uhm," Mark looked down at his hands and then quickly back to Eduardo, holding his eyes. "what are you doing for Hanukkah?"

Eduardo had laughed a little. "What?"

"Hanukkah? Do you have plans? I think I'm going back to see my parents," Mark went on, conversationally "they won't come out here, which is ridiculous because the weather -"

"I'm sorry, what? Are you - what are you doing?" Eduardo didn't even know where to begin.

"I just thought we could talk. Not about ... I just want to talk."

Eduardo ran a hand through his hair. "Mark, we don't _talk_."

"I know, but that's why I thought we could START talking -"

"That doesn't make sense."

"What I mean is," Mark said slowly, looking down at his feet "I want to start talking." The words came out in a rush after that. "Actually talking. About Hanukkah and our parents and Singapore and how stupid Farmville is and ways I could have made Beacon more friendly for the public and video games and -"

Eduardo cut him off. "No. Mark. No, we can't start talking." Eduardo marveled at how terrible it felt to say that. How could it still hurt _so fucking much_? Why couldn't he just get over a god-damn business deal that had turned out alright, in the end?

Mark made a frustrated noise and looked right into his eyes. "I'm -- I'm not the same person I was at 19, Eduardo." (he tripped over the first syllable, Eduardo always noticed how he tripped over that first fucking syllable.)

And then? Then Mark took a step towards him, as if he was going to - to reach out and try to grab Eduardo's wrists or something equally _mad_ and Eduardo had stumbled back. "What are you _doing_?" He'd asked, his voice frantic.

"Things have changed. _We've_ changed. We're not the same people we were and - can't you see," Mark took a big, shuddery breath and spit it out. "I'm sorry! Of course I'm sorry!" he was practically shouting.

Eduardo looked at him for what felt like forever and then, without another word, pushed past him, walking back to the boardroom as quickly as he could without breaking into a run.

~~

Eduardo stared out his window at the glittering lights of Singapore. He hadn’t stopped hearing Mark’s words since that day. Not _I'm sorry_. He was surprised at how little that mattered to him. No, it was how steady Mark's voice had sounded when he said _I'm not the same person I was at 19, Eduardo_.

Somewhere, out there, was a baby named Facebook. Eduardo was a billionaire, that's billionaire, with a **b**. He'd been part of something that had literally changed the world. And he wasn't the same person he'd been at 19 either.

~~

He goes back to Miami for Hanukkah. He resists the strange urge he has to text Mark ( _I'm in Miami. Weather's better than Jersey_ ) because he doesn't want to encourage him.

It doesn't matter though, because it only takes two hours under the same roof as his father before he's booked a hotel over his mother's protests. ( _I should never have agreed to stay here, Mãe, he doesn't want me in the house!_ ) Eduardo's in the elevator on the way to his room, exhausted and worn out already, when his phone buzzes. Any other night, he tells himself, he would have just deleted a text message from a number he didn't recognize. He only opens this one because he's so out of sorts, he tells himself. It had nothing to do with some part of him stupidly hoping Mark would reach out on this, the first night of the holiday he'd mentioned a few weeks before.

_Happy Hanukkah. I hope wherever you are has better weather than Jersey. How did I live through East Coast winters?_

The elevator dings for his floor and Eduardo shuffles out, dragging himself to his room.

He won't respond. He won't.

The door is barely clicking shut behind him before he has his phone out. _Hoodies, flip-flops, no gloves, coat, or hat ... I'm actually not sure. I'm in Miami, no coat needed._

He's barely shrugged off his jacket when his phone is buzzing back.

He's prepared for another smart comment about the weather and wardrobes, something casual and mean, something very Mark. He's not expecting what he reads.

 _Miami_  
_. Don't take shit from your father, Eduardo. You deserve more than that. You're more than that._

That's not what the Mark Eduardo remembers would say. Maybe Mark is ... no. That's not a path Eduardo can go down right now. He just _can't_.

He can't think of anything else to say besides

_um, thanks. happy hanukkah back._

He collapses in the uncomfortable hotel bed without waiting for a response.

~~

On the fourth night it all comes to a head. The constant belittling comments, the short asides, the disapproving gaze, the under-the-breath criticisms that verge on insults, the stony silences his mother and sister try to talk over: years of it, his entire life full of it. On the fourth night of Hanukkah, Eduardo has finally had enough.

"I can't let you treat me this way anymore, Pai. I'm not the same person I was and ... I deserve more than this."

( _is that Mark he hears in his head?_ )

His father's face grows dark. "How dare you come into my home and speak to me this way? You? You're a failure, you're a -"

Eduardo feels his voice, sure and steady. "I'm a _billionaire_ , Pai. I could buy and sell you ten times over. And, and..." he swallows hard, this part is somehow much harder to say. "I helped make Facebook happen. I - I - it - _we_ changed the world."

His sister's triumphant grin, his mother's short gasp.

He doesn't back down, even when his father's eyes narrow with something that feels dangerous. "You - you - you have no right to speak to me this way, you - you _bicha_."

And there. There it is. The one word no one in this house has ever said, the unspoken thing he's always known has hidden behind all of his father's insults and anger and frustration with him. The worst word, the worst thing, Eduardo ever imagined being called.

_bicha - faggot._

Eduardo's never even kissed another man. But he's - he's - _Mark_. He's wanted to, oh God, he's _wanted_ to.

And now, all of a sudden with that word, that ugly, hateful word, finally out there; he knows he can want that and the world won't end.

It's the opposite of time standing still, it's like he's been unfrozen in time, like he can finally move, like he's finally free of something he's been afraid of since he was 12 years old.

He kisses his mother and sister, gives them each a reassuring smile, tells his sister he'll call her.

Then Eduardo looks right at his father and says it. "Adeus, Pai."

He walks away without a second glance.

~~

_No more Miami. Thanks for the - thanks._

_There's still time to come experience the magic of Jersey. I'll pay Springsteen to come do a show in the backyard?_

_Thanks, but I have some stuff to sort out._

_You know where to find me._

_I do._

~~

When Eduardo flies back to Singapore, he finally allows himself to think that maybe some of the things he always imagined were _impossible_ could actually happen.

Maybe.

~~

It's early March and Spring is coming. Singapore, outside his window, sparkles. He's been lost in the memories of the past few months, since that moment when Mark chased him down the hall and everything changed.

It's been three months since he walked out of his parent's house in Miami. Three months since he walked out and heard that word -   _bicha_ \- echoing in his head. The word he's been afraid of maybe his whole life.  The word he was afraid of the night freshman year they had too many beers and he slung an arm around Mark's shoulder and Mark leaned into him and he felt a sharp jolt of want shock through his body. _Bicha_.

Eduardo's rolled the word over and over in his head, seen the way his father's face went dark and angry. _Bicha_. That's the word that Eduardo's father would use for the way Eduardo ... the way he _wants_. It's maybe the word Eduardo used for a long time, whether he knew it or not.

 _Bicha_.

That's wrong. He's not going to use or think that word any more - because it feels sharp, mean, ugly. And the things, all those things, Eduardo's discovering he's always wanted? They might be complicated and scary and big but they aren't sharp, mean, or ugly. They aren't wrong.

And neither is he.

It's early March and everything is changing.

\--

Eduardo hasn't heard from Mark since the text messaging at Hanukkah. Mark hasn't pushed back against Eduardo's request for needing time to sort things out. (Again, Eduardo is surprised by Mark's restraint. It's almost like Mark is listening to what he says and respecting his wishes. That's not the Mark Eduardo remembers and when he stops to think about that he hears him in his head again _I'm not the same person I was at 19_.)

The first he hears from Mark is a short e-mail the week before the shareholder's meeting.

_Hey,_

_Hope everything is well and you're doing OK sorting things out. Not pushing, just know I'm...um, here. Anyhow, just wanted to let you know I'd like it if you can make the shareholder's meeting next week? Big changes I'd like your thoughts about. I'd really like to see you there, if it works for you. I'll even buy you dinner afterward?_

_-MZ_

Big changes, huh? Yeah, Eduardo's starting to believe that.

He's going to Palo Alto.

~~

Eduardo tries to sleep on the plane but, even with the first class accommodations, it's hard to get comfortable. Besides, he can't shut his mind off long enough to really fall asleep. He reads a little, tries to do a crossword, looks over some work spreadsheets, plays a few rounds of Angry Birds on his iPad. He tries a glass of wine, a short walk stretching his legs. Nothing seems to take his mind off what he's doing, where he's going. He even decides to give the in-flight movie a chance. Katherine Heigl mugs for the camera as a woman who is secretly so tired of doing it all and some blandly handsome actor does the Hollywood version of charming (which really means jerky) until she loosens up and falls for him. _Of course it's a romcom_. Eduardo turns it off half-way through.

He knows the end, after all, all those movies end the same way. He wonders dimly if that's what he's doing, flying literally halfway across the world to ... to what? The chance to have dinner with some guy he thinks he might - he might. The chance to have dinner with Mark and then, oh, say confess that he's not the same person he was at 19 either and maybe - maybe they can see what means for them? Hasn't Eduardo seen that one already? Wasn't that a Meg Ryan movie?

~~

Mark's a huge movie buff. For a long time, people used to think Facebook's first logo, the "face" itself, was Mark's. It wasn't, [it was Al Pacino](http://mashable.com/2010/07/22/facebook-facts/). He'd coded random movie lines into every part of thefacebook and he often verbally quoted his favorite movies with ease. ( _We're gonna need a bigger boat. The horror! The horror! Funny, like I'm a clown? Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes? Inconceivable!_ ) Mark was the only person Eduardo ever knew who could quote _The Iliad_ in Greek in one sentence and then _Back to the Future_ in the next. He'd watch anything and he loved every genre. A movie was almost constantly on loop in the suite at Kirkland.

One day at the beginning of sophomore year Eduardo walked in on Mark coding on one laptop while _Sleepless in Seattle_ played on another.

"Mark, were you aware that Meg Ryan is peeling an apple on your laptop?"

Mark didn't even look away from his coding. "I felt like watching it after I saw _An Affair to Remember_ the other night," he explained matter-of-factly.

"You saw what?" Eduardo was genuinely mystified.

Mark actually stopped coding and turned to stare at Eduardo. He seemed puzzled. "It was on TCM at 3 AM. I didn't have a lot of choices."

"But - but -" Eduardo's not sure what he wants to say, not sure what won't sound sexist or stupid.

Mark seemed to enjoy his mental flailing and gave a small smirk. "What? I'm not allowed to enjoy romantic comedies or something? How quaintly sexist, Wardo. This one's great. Lots of them are.  Meg Ryan's so underrated. Besides," Mark broke off and bit his lip, looking away.

"Besides you just can't resist Tom Hanks's charms?" Eduardo's joked.

"Besides," Mark said "don't you think everyone likes, uhm, don't you think," he stumbled here "everyone deserves a happy ending, right?"

Eduardo stepped back and fell awkwardly on Mark's bed, pretending everything was casual, pretending that he didn't feel that _charge_ he's been feeling more and more when he and Mark seemed to be having two conversations at once; the one they're actually speaking and the one lurking between the lines that Eduardo doesn't like to look too closely at.

"Uh, sure," Eduardo said, hoping his voice still sounded level.

Mark stared at him for a second and Eduardo felt strangely exposed. Could it be that Mark was feeling that charge too?

Eduardo had to break the tension. "So, what other Meg Ryan blockbusters do you have lurking on that hard drive?"

Mark spun his chair around so he was facing the laptops again and Eduardo pretended he couldn't see the way his shoulders slumped, just a little. "We'll start this one from the beginning. You'll see."

Mark started the movie over and went back to coding. Eduardo settled into Mark's bed and, as always, pretended that nothing unusual had happened.

~~

On the plane, Eduardo remembers that movie, remembers the slump in Mark's shoulders, remember the charge he used to ignore.

What's Mark expecting from this potential dinner? What's _Eduardo_ expecting?

He doesn't know the answer to either of those questions and for once the scariest part is how he's not scared at all.

Eduardo stretches out on the awkward plane bed and puts on a sleep mask, tries again to turn his brain off.

Stepping off the plane he has a moment of panic. Is he really here? Is he really here because of the possibility of dinner with Mark? Yeah. Yeah, he really is. Which means there's nothing else to do now but go try and sleep in his hotel so he can be prepared for ... the possibility of tomorrow.

~~

Checked in and trying to relax in his huge hotel room, Eduardo stares out at the lights of a new city. He should just order some good room service and try sleep. Maybe take a shower and wash off the flight. But that's not what he ends up doing.

_Made it for the shareholder's meeting._

It feels like his phone is buzzing with a response the second after he presses "send."

_Very glad to hear that. Thanks for letting me know. Need anything?_

Eduardo cautions himself to stay neutral, stay calm.

_Thank you, but no. I'm settling in at the hotel. I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow, though._

Too neutral? Too calm? Mark must not think so, because the phone is vibrating again.

_Get some good room service and try to sleep off the jet lag. I'm looking forward to seeing you._

Eduardo stares at that message for a long time, stuck on that last sentence. Mark has just _said_ it: no hedging around it, nothing cryptic or mocking or weirdly passive. Simple and straightforward: _"I'm looking forward to seeing you."_ No big deal, right?

And yet, suddenly, Eduardo thinks back to the Mark who could never even say _congratulations_ when Eduardo got punched by the Phoenix, the Mark who got choked up on apologies and anger, the Mark who pushed back no matter what. Eduardo remembers that guy, God, does he remember that guy. He's spent so many years being stuck on remembering _that guy_. But Mark? He's _not_ that guy anymore.

And Eduardo knows that. He's come all the way across the world he finally, really, truly knows that. So, he swallows hard and decides to drop neutral.

_I'm looking forward to seeing you too. You're still buying me dinner, right?_

He gets another instant response.

_Just reminding you that we have a FREE[gourmet restaurant](http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/25/us/25sfcafeteria.html?_r=1) here IN office! :) _

Mark's teasing? Mark's possibly ... _flirting_? Eduardo finds he can't stop a stupid smile from spreading across his face.

_Restaurant? You mean *the cafeteria*, right? No, I was promised dinner._

He pauses before he hits send, stills his fingers over the keys. Is he brave enough to type the next sentence? How can he not? Besides, the thing is? Smile on his face, heart thumping, looking out at the lights of a whole new city - Eduardo _wants_ to type it.

His fingers fly. _So don't be a cheap date!_ He sends it.

It actually takes him a second to realize that it's his phone buzzing indicating a new message, not just his skin tingling from anticipation.

_Dinner it is then._

The phone's not buzzing anymore, but Eduardo feels like he is.

~~

Eduardo rises early the next morning, feeling almost human again. He's too nervous to think about breakfast and he spends way too much time smoothing out his suit. He's torn between not wanting to get there too early and wanting to rush out the door immediately.

The meetings always begin at 11:00, which is ridiculously late for a huge corporate shareholder meeting, but a concession on Mark's part since it's before noon.

Eduardo arrives at the offices at 10:00. He stands outside, looking at the huge building before him, thinking of how far all of this has come. He moves forward.

~

Eduardo steps off the elevator into chaos. This is unusual, because the shareholder's meetings are run with precision and focus, mostly because Mark hates them and wants them done as soon as possible. Today, however, there seem to be ten times as many people in the offices and many of them are people he's never seen before. He makes his way towards the large boardroom, looking for someone he knows. He's almost there when he sees Dustin. He calls out to him.

Dustin turns. "Wardo!"

Eduardo hurries to catch up with him. They exchange a quick handshake. "Hey Dustin. What's all this?"

"You gotta see, dude," Dustin pulls him down the hall. "You're not gonna believe this."

They turn down the corridor (the same corridor Mark had stopped Eduardo in back in November) and Eduardo sees into the big boardroom through the large glass doors.

The boardroom is set up for a press conference. There are legions of reporters and people setting up lights and adjusting cameras. Some staff and shareholders are milling around towards the back of the room where there are more chairs. "What in the hell?" Eduardo gasps.

"Right?" Dustin laughs.

Eduardo thinks of Mark's email. _big changes_. "What is happening?"

Dustin's grinning. "Dude, I don't even know. Like a week ago, Mark announces that before the shareholder's meeting we're have a major press conference. It's _required_ attendance for all staff and as many shareholders as can make it. He's coded in a widget so you _have_ to watch it if you're on Facebook during it, which will cover about half the world as is. THEN he called up [Sergey](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sergey_Brin) and [Larry](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larry_Page) and groveled until they agreed to main page feature it on YouTube AND Google Video."

Eduardo can't stop staring. He wonders if his mouth is actually dangling open. Dustin is almost rubbing his hands together in glee.

"What is this all _about_?" Eduardo asks, wonder in his voice.

"I saved the best part for last, Wardo. The press conference is Mark giving the first ever," Dustin pauses takes a deep breath. " _'State of Facebook_ ' address." Dustin makes the air quotes.

"No way," Eduardo mutters.

" _Way_!" Dustin giggles, punching Eduardo in the arm.

Eduardo stares into the conference room, still disbelieving. He's pretty sure he sees Anderson Cooper checking his light. He feels rooted in the spot, unsure of what he's feeling.

It's then that he hears Mark directly behind him. "Eduardo!" he exclaims, his voice rich with anticipation and something that sounds suspiciously like happiness. "I'm so glad you're here."

~~

Eduardo pulls his eyes away from the boardroom, takes a deep breath, and turns to face Mark. Even though half the American news media seems to be assembled just a few feet away, Mark's staring at Eduardo like he's the only person in the room. From the way Mark's eyes light up, Eduardo suspects he might be staring back in the same way.

They stand there, just looking at each other, for almost a full minute.

"Ummm..." Dustin says, dragging the word out. "So whatever's happening here," he gestures between Mark and Eduardo. "Seems... _cool_?"

Mark shakes his head, as if Dustin's words have snapped him back to reality. Eduardo wants to break the tension somehow. (Even though the tension isn't the kind that feels _bad_ , exactly? It actually feels kind of, sort of, _exciting_?) Eduardo decides to go for conversation. "This is the big thing, huh?" Eduardo says, gesturing vaguely behind them.

"Yeah, this is it." His voice sounds almost normal. "I better get inside. I hope you, well, I hope you - uhm. Anyway, sit wherever you want, maybe close to the front? I hope you," Mark looks down at his feet, then back up to Eduardo. He holds his gaze again. "I hope you like it."

Eduardo nods. "Thanks. I'm sure it will be," his mouth suddenly feels very dry. "I'm sure _you_ will be great."

And Mark smiles. Mark smiles that ridiculous-every-line-of-code-is-working-this-moment-is-brilliant smile. With that smile, in a split second, Eduardo's memory races backwards. _He is soaking wet, in the living room of the house_ he's _paying for, with Sean Parker mocking him and Eduardo feels the anger burning up his skin and then Mark slaps his back - Eduardo turns into the touch and - it's_ this _smile, this smile of relief and joy and "Wardo!"_

But that was then. That was then and Eduardo didn't know what to do or how to ask for what he wanted and _that was then_. In the now, Mark is giving him that smile and he feels like he knows just what that means.

Mark steps forward, claps him tightly on the shoulder. This is a familiar gesture, but it used to be Eduardo who was reaching out. Now he feels Mark's hand gripping _him_. "Thank you. That means a lot." He squeezes Eduardo's shoulder, never looks away from his eyes. His voice is hushed for the next part. "Are we still on for - dinner?"

Eduardo knows what he wants now. He knows what he came here for. He thinks he even might know how to ask.

He leans forward, into Mark's grip. He doesn't care about Dustin standing three feet away, mouth no doubt agape, he doesn't care if Anderson Cooper or Glenn Fucking Beck is on the other side of glass doors with cameras. He only cares about this exact second.

He's so close to Mark their foreheads are practically touching. If he wanted to, right this second, he could lean over and press their lips together and -

Instead he just murmurs to Mark, his voice a breathy whisper, "Oh, it's _on_."

Mark's eyes go wide. He releases Eduardo's shoulder, steps back, shaky. He begins to walk backwards to the conference room, never taking his eyes off Eduardo.

Mark smiles the whole way, until his back is pressed to the wide glass boardroom doors and he is pushing inside.

~~

Dustin is dragging him into the boardroom. Dustin's rambling while keeping a death grip on Eduardo with one hand and fumbling with his phone with the other. "What in the holy _fuck_ was that? I can't believe Chris is off talking to reporters about what-in-the-fuck ever when _this_ is happening. You almost - you two were - when did this even happen? Ohmygod, ohmygod. Have I woken up in an alternate universe where the lawsuit never happened and you two are lovers? OK Dustin, don't step on any butterflies, man! What in the _fuck_ , Wardo!"

Normally Eduardo would be laughing, or trying to pull himself out of Dustin's grip, or even trying to interrupt Dustin's panicked rambling. But he finds he can't. Eduardo can't stop smiling.

Dustin has drug Eduardo to the left side of the stage Mark will be on for the conference. They're in the staging area which means while they have an excellent view of the stage and can see out into the crowded sea of cameras, microphones, and people they're hidden from almost the entire room. It's prime viewing and Eduardo knows it's not for the general public. No one else is milling around except for a security guy who is looking in the other direction and two PAs with Bluetooth headsets who are roaming the staging area perimeter.

"Seriously," Dustin says, his tone still somewhat frantic. "Eduardo. What is _happening_?"

Eduardo shrugs. He tries, just for a moment, to wipe the look of happiness off his face, but he can't. "We've been talking." It sounds so simple, it sounds so slight. And yet -

" _Talking_?" Dustin squeaks. "That was practically a scene from _The Notebook_! Not that I've seen that movie, I mean."

Eduardo laughs, he laughs and it doesn't feel like he'll ever stop.

Dustin shakes his head disbelievingly. "I'm - I'm going to get Chris. Stay right here. Don't move. Do not run off [to try on your 27 best-man-Prada-tuxedos for a newspaper feature](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/27_Dresses). Not that I've seen that movie, I mean."

Eduardo's not going anywhere.

~

Chris looks indulgent as Dustin drags him over to Eduardo. "Hey Wardo," he says.

"Hey Chris, good to see you. Have you confirmed to Dustin he's in the right reality?"

Chris nods. "Yup, I said all the right codewords. I also hear you're about to [run out of your wedding with McDreamy to reunite with your childhood sweetheart](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sweet_Home_Alabama_%28film%29). Not that Dustin's seen that movie, I mean."

"Keep laughing, asshole," Dustin hisses. "You did not see the things I saw!"

Eduardo and Chris share a commiserate eyeroll. Eduardo really is about to try to explain to Dustin and Chris what's going on (as if he knows himself) when the noise level of the crowd drops dramatically.

Mark is making his way to the microphone.

 _Here it comes_ , Eduardo thinks _something big._

_~~_

"Good afternoon everyone, thank you all for coming today. And welcome to all of you watching this at home. Sorry you can't turn it off if you're on Facebook. You could just shut your Facebook window, if it really bothers you. We all know how easy it is to navigate away from Facebook, after all."

Mark pauses and practically winks at the camera. The crowd laughs knowingly. Did Mark ... did Mark just _get a laugh_ out of the crowd  Is Mark _playing_ the crowsd?

"As many of you know, today is Facebook's quarterly shareholder's meeting. I've invited the press here not to observe this meeting or to go over the dry facts we cover at shareholder's meetings dealing with how well we're doing in the Eastern European markets are and what changes we'd like to make to the Newsfeed. Though, Valleywag, you are still invited to complain about missing out on that. And definitely throw in an insult about me being sweaty to up the journalistic integrity."

Another big laugh. Mark just made everyone laugh by _being mean_. Eduardo's not sure how Mark figured out to make his remarks cutting _and_ charming instead of merely cruel and petty but maybe ... maybe that's part of the wisdom of growing up too. Eduardo's not quite sure what's happening, but he likes it. (Not as much as Chris, who is subconsciously making small fist-pumps every time Mark lands a line.)

"As you know, you were invited here today to hear my 'State of Facebook' address. I'm sure most of you rolled your eyes at my phrasing and I can't really blame you, we all know the state of Facebook. You've heard the monetary figures reported on the news and you know that we have 500 million users. You know the state of Facebook because of the friend request you got last week from your third grade best friend's sister. You know the state of Facebook because _you_ are the state of Facebook. That's not what I want to talk about today. I want to speak with all of you about something much larger and, if I can say, much more personal."

And that's when everyone, Eduardo especially, sees how serious Mark really is.

~

Mark pauses, looks out to the sea of cameras. "The State of the Union is [not only a chance for the President to report on the condition of the country but to outline future plans and priorities](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/State_of_the_Union_address). You already know about the condition of Facebook. I want to tell you a little more about future plans and priorities."

Mark takes a deep breath.

"I know that there are concerns about our privacy policies and our policies regarding registration using real names. I know that some people worry that Facebook is changing how we interact socially too drastically. I do understand the seriousness of these concerns and I don't take any of them lightly. Neither does anyone who works here. Whatever else you've heard or believe about Facebook, I'm asking you today to remember that the people who created it, the people who work on it, might not have all the answers and might not always do what _you_ think is right, but we are trying and we are listening and we are _growing_."

Eduardo can't take his eyes off Mark, the whole world recedes around him. Mark's not talking about Facebook at all. _I want - I want - I need you_. Maybe Mark's never been talking about Facebook.

Mark continues, his voice full of hope and belief. "My dream for Facebook has always been that it could make the world a more open place by helping people connect. I know that sounds simplistic but I truly believe this seemingly simple goal is at the heart of everything we do or try to do. In the end, all we want is to connect. In the end, it's all that really matters."

The room has grown almost completely silent. Mark is completely sincere, completely laid bare. He has the crowd riveted. Eduardo sees him, as if for the first time, as the man he has become, not the boy he was. And yet Eduardo still sees that boy, rocking back and forth in the cold behind the AEPi party. Maybe Eduardo alone can see them both.  Maybe that means something.  Maybe that means _everything_.

Eduardo moves toward the stage in long, quick strides. He can't wait for dinner. He can't wait for Mark to finish his speech and the cameras to go away. After seven years, Eduardo can't wait another second.

He loves the boy Mark was, he thinks he's more than half-in love with the man Mark is and he wants to find out everything about him and get all the way there.

As Mark once told him: _everyone deserves a happy ending_.

Eduardo's gonna go get his.

~~

From behind him, Eduardo hears Dustin, his voice giddy. "Fuck _yeah_!"

It's only going to take Eduardo a few steps to reach the stage. He realizes, dimly, that Mark is looking down at the podium, probably his notes, so he doesn't even see him coming. No one else in the room (besides Chris and Dustin that is) seems to see him coming either, as they are all busy watching Mark. Mark looks up and out into the crowd with an expression so open that Eduardo feels his heart in his throat. He's on the stage now and Mark - Mark is within arms reach and probably the crowd reacts, somehow, though they've gone to white noise as far as Eduardo's concerned, but it's enough to make Mark turn, just a little and he sees Eduardo and -

there's just enough time, in that split second for a thousand expressions to flit across Mark's face, and Eduardo feels every single one of them. But Mark settles on, fuck, Mark settles on _joy_. He takes a single step back from the podium, looks, just looks and -

it's as if time as slowed down, as if there's not a hundred cameras clicking away, as if it's _all_ been leading to this, their first kiss.

~

Eduardo grabs Mark's face in his hands, pulls him forward, and kisses him. _He's actually kissing Mark_. He's not sure what's going to happen next. He knows Mark wants to kiss him, OK, but maybe he wasn't planning on it happening in front of half the news media in the world during a really great public relations moment for him. But it takes Mark less than a second to wrap his arms around Eduardo's waist and pull him closer. _Mark is actually kissing him back_.

Eduardo licks across Mark's lips, a silent plea that Mark picks up on at once. He opens his mouth and Eduardo kisses harder, kisses closer. Mark's hands are scrabbling up Eduardo's back and Eduardo slides one hand from Mark's face to the back of his neck. Eduardo runs his nails lightly across the back of Mark's neck and feels Mark push closer to him and make a small, wild moan at the back of his throat. ( _maybe the mics picked up that_ , Eduardo thinks, semi-hysterically.)

So Eduardo kisses harder, tangles his tongue with Mark's, and Mark pushes back, like they can't be close enough. It's wet and a little messy and aggressive, and it feels to Eduardo instantly familiar, as if he and Mark have been doing this forever. It is, simply, the best kiss of Eduardo's life.

~

You know that cliche about a kiss being so amazing that there birds singing and bells ringing? Eduardo's starting to wonder if that might actually be true, because, as if from a great distance he can hear ... a piano?

Wait ... Mark's stepping back from him, a look that is beyond words on his face. He points beyond Eduardo's shoulder and laughs.

And then there's ... music? _Actual_ music? It's not just in Eduardo's head? He turns to see where Mark's pointing. Chris is holding up his iPhone, which has somehow been wired into the building's intercom system ( _Dustin!_ ) and is now blaring Pete Townshend - [_when people keep repeating/that you'll never fall in love/when everybody keeps retreating/but you can't seem to get enough/let my love open the door_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FZbcoWrUsw).

Dustin has tears in his eyes that he's trying (and failing) to hide. Chris is smiling and bopping his head along. Mark walks up behind Eduardo, claps him again on the shoulder. "I bet Dustin saw this in a movie," he whispers.

And then, even over the music, Eduardo becomes aware of the roar of the press.

~~

Mark waves at Dustin and Chris, motions for them to turn the music off, but he's smiling so hard _Eduardo's_ face hurts from it. Chris turns the music off, slides the phone into his pocket. He gives them a double thumbs up. Dustin is scrubbing at his eyes with palms of his hands, pretending he wasn't crying. "Let's do this then," Mark says squeezing Eduardo's shoulder. They turn to face the press corps.

~~

It's deafening. Everyone seems to be shouting over each other, or into phones, or at their lighting technicians. If they aren't waving their hands madly to try to get Mark's attention for a question, they are urgently reporting back to their live studio streams. Eduardo hears snippets. _The man appears to be Eduardo Saverin, Facebook co-founder and former CFO who had a very public falling out with Mr. Zuckerberg_ \- _No word yet on if Mr. Zuckerberg knew what Mr. Saverin had planned but the current feeling among observers here is that he did not_ \- _We're waiting to see if Mr. Zuckerberg and Mr. Saverin will take questions_ -

Mark laces their fingers together and pulls Eduardo to the podium. It actually looks as if he might be ready to launch into another speech or, God, even take questions. But Eduardo knows he has something to say first. He pulls his hand free and edges Mark aside, stepping up alone to the microphone.

"Good afternoon. I - I - hope you all - I - my name is Eduardo Saverin and I'd like to make a statement."

~

"Many of you may know that besides being a shareholder in this company, I am also a co-founder. And I think by this point there aren't too many people who don't also know that Mr. Zuckerberg and I were involved in a very contentious legal battle over the company. We settled and neither of us can legally discuss that, nor would we want to, especially with all of you, no offense. So, now that we've gotten the lead line of all the stories out of the way, let's move on to the good stuff, shall we?"

Now Eduardo's gotten a laugh from the crowd. He shares a sideways glance with Mark, who is beaming at him, looking slightly dazed.

"I certainly won't pretend that I can tell you as much about the 'State of Facebook' as Mr. Zucker - as Mark - can. But I can tell you a story from the night Facebook went live. That night, Mark figured out the last piece of the original puzzle: _relationship status_. He coded it in and told me that's what he wanted Facebook to _be_. I teased him, said people would get on Facebook to get laid but - but - Mark knew it was _more_ than that."

Eduardo stops, looks at Mark again. Mark is rubbing the back of his neck, looking somewhat abashed.

"Mark knew, even then, that what would make Facebook work was the chance to connect - the chance to be an immediate part of someone's life and to _share_ your life with them. I know, like all of you, that Facebook isn't perfect. I too have issues with some of their decisions. But, in the end, when it came to connecting, Mark was right that night all those years ago and he's right today too."

When Eduardo pauses and looks at Mark this time, Mark is looking back at him. Eduardo knows Mark _understands_.

"Now, I'm sure that all of you have many more questions and want more answers. I don't know if I can provide them. But on a more personal note, I'd like to say one last thing."

"I've spent a lot of my life being afraid of - of -" Eduardo gulps hard. "I've spent a lot of my life being afraid of what I wanted or of doing the wrong thing. But I know now the only thing we should be afraid of is not taking a chance to go after what we want. I think Mark always knew that, I think it's part of how he was able to create Facebook. It's how he _changed the world_ and I am so glad I was even a small part of that.  I know now that life is too short not to forgive the people who matter to you, not to take a chance that could change the world. So, please, I urge all of you to stop being afraid and to go out there and take a chance - go make your own happy ending."

He steps back from the podium and - and - people are applauding. People are applauding and cheering and for a second no one wants to ask questions, they just want to watch Mark and Eduardo watching each other with ridiculous, happy grins.

~~

That only lasts a few seconds though, because then the roar of the press corps is back in full force. Half the press is screaming their names, the other half frantically reporting back to their cameras. Eduardo's not sure what to do, but Mark pulls his gaze off him and turns back to the sea of flashbulbs, microphones, and cameras. _That really happened_ he thinks, looking out at the world media. _It really happened and the whole fucking world saw and all I am is happy._

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, everyone. We _do_ have a shareholder's meeting, so we won't be able to - I hadn't planned to take questions and, um, this was somewhat of a surprise so we'll release a more comprehensive statement later, although I think we said plenty - " he stops and looks down at crowd, as if seeing their faces for the first time, registering they are actually there. Then he squints, leans forward. It's almost as if he recognizes someone in the crowd. Eduardo follows his line of sight. No - it can't be.

"OK. One question." The press pushes forward, each shouting louder than the other, but Eduardo knows who Mark has his eye on. Mark points to the reporter who has pushed up to the second row. "You, in the grey suit."

The woman holds a tape recorder up, smirks, but not in a mean way. "Mr. Zuckerberg, I'm Erica Albright with Valleywag. I was just wondering: don't you think this would have been much more effective if you'd [just stood outside Mr. Saverin's window with a boombox playing _In Your Eyes_](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Say_Anything...)?"

No one in the room laughs louder than Mark.

~

Mark waves his hands helplessly, trying to silence the room. "I'm sorry everyone, I'm sorry, but we really do have to cut this short. Please, don't you all have stories to be filing?"

Eduardo pulls at Mark's elbow, tries to get him off-stage. Mark hasn't seemed to figure out that the press is never going to stop asking questions. The shareholders milling around the back are looking a little antsy, though . . . boy, this is gonna be an interesting meeting. "C'mon," Eduardo tugs again.

"I shouldn't have - Ms. Albright is an old college, uh, I knew Ms. Albright in college and, I just wanted to let her know I was glad to see - I, uh, didn't really mean I was going to answer - we, uh, don't really have time to - I'm sorry. We will release a statement and I am grateful you all came, I meant everything I said, but we do -"

 _There's_ the Mark Eduardo remembers so fondly: the muttering, distracted one who doesn't seem to care how he sounds or what conclusions people might be drawing, who is lost unto his own circular reasoning. Well, in the great romantic comedy tradition, Eduardo will just have to save him from himself. He's pretty good at that anyway.

He pulls Mark away from the podium, brings him close, presses their foreheads together. The mics are definitely going to pick this up. Eduardo doesn't care. "Kiss me again," he commands, his voice absolutely sure.

This time Mark takes Eduardo's face in _his_ hands. "[As you wish](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbX1U1tx9aw)," he murmurs, pressing his lips to Eduardo's.

~~

The next morning Dustin and Chris come over to have an early breakfast with Mark and Eduardo. (perhaps not surprisingly, Mark and Wardo never quite made it to dinner.) The four of them flip through the piles of press coverage. It's seemingly never-ending.

The kiss, complete with Dustin and Chris's score, has gone viral and is closing in on 10 million hits. Parts of their speeches have already been autotuned and are being sold with proceeds going to various gay rights charities. Pete Townshend's _Let My Love Open the Door_ is the number one single on iTunes. Anonymous YouTube user _seriously.I've.never.seen.that.movie_ has created a video remixing epic Hollywood kisses with Mark and Eduardo's and its going viral too. Dustin disavows all knowledge.

Peering at Mark's laptop, they see Erica's lead piece at Valleywag. She calls it [_~~Storybook~~ Facebook Love_](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DboM8xYouqc). "That's a reference to _The Princess Bride_ ," Mark explains to Dustin, Chris, and Eduardo.

Dustin rolls his eyes. "Dude, we know. Everyone's seen that movie."

~  
_  
for their one month anniversary, Eduardo arranges a meeting at the top of the Empire State building. It's April and not Valentine's Day but he's sure not going to wait until next year. Eduardo is done with waiting._

**Author's Note:**

> written for a prompt over in the tsn_kinkmeme for someone who wanted ["an old-fashioned, dramatic-as-fuck Golden Age of Hollywood kiss."](http://community.livejournal.com/tsn_kinkmeme/3654.html?view=6737478#t6737478) I went a little overboard, but I hope the OP likes it. Special thanks to Andrea, for the constant feedback. Big thanks to fandom, fantastic as ever.
> 
> Nora Ephron once said _Sleepless in Seattle_ isn't about love, it's about love in the movies. I know just what she means. That's what I wanted this fic to be. I know that's not for everyone but that's the goal of this piece: maybe not "realistic" love but the kind of love, movie love, we all sometimes dream of. (and, to me, it is realistic to want something big and dramatic and romantic. I sure do!)


End file.
